Having spent the better part of an hour in my own home, I stopped on the porch to have a cigarette. An old habit, one I intended to kick but couldn't seem to find a good reason. The armor was indeed light and quite comfortable. It wasn't like my Imperial Dragon armor, which was heavy and limited movement. With this I could surely sneak better, blend into the shadows, and move as quiet as Lachance.
Once back in the Sanctuary, I was greeted with a few cheers.
"I didn't think you'd come back, sister." Gogron laughed heartily. Mraj-Dar looked at him with a glare and hand held out, palm-up. Gogron sighed and payed him coin for what I could only assume was a bet on if I would actually come back or not. Guess Mraj-Dar was right.
"Nevermind them," said a Bosmer woman. She had a bow and quiver on her back. I realized then that nearly everyone was dressed the same, in the Dark Brotherhood's shrouded armor. All except Gogron, Mraj-Dar, and Vicente. "I'm Taelandril, an Assassin."
"A pleasure." I smiled at her. "You said Assassin? So are there ranks within the Brotherhood?" I felt like an idiot. She didn't belittle me, though she could have.
"Yes, of course. You earn them through behavior and completing contracts. As well as how well you do the job." She began explaining. "Everyone starts out as a murderer. Then it only goes higher: Slayer, Eliminator, Assassin, Executioner, Silencer, Speaker, and our one Listener. There are four Speakers, along with one Listener to form the Black Hand, our leaders. Each member of the had has a personal servant, a Silencer. Like the nail to a finger. One whom carries out top-secret, specialized contracts for their Speaker."
"Thank you, Taelandril. I hate to admit it, but that's the most straight-forward answer I've been given today." I said, feeling relieved to finally understand something. Power and how to achieve it.
"Any time, Sister." She laughed lightly and walked off to exit the Sanctuary. I decided to sit with the other members at a dining table in the Living Quarters, seeing as they had all gathered and Gogron insisted I join them.
"So tell us, murderer. Where are you from?" Gogron asked, having a hearty portion of whatever meat was being served and a rather large tankard of mead the size of my head. I tried not to delay in giving an answer, though I was unsure what to say.
"Don't make her say anything she doesn't want to, she's terrified! Look at her." Ocheeva said to him sternly. He apologized but I quickly said,
"No, no. It's alright. I'm just- this isn't really what I was expecting. No offense." I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment. I was making a fool of myself.
"Let me guess. You expected a bunch of cruel, sinister, blade-crazed fools with no structure?" Said a woman I hadn't been properly introduced to.
"No- I just-"
"I was only teasing." She laughed, they all joined in. I realized I needed to work on the gullibility. "I'm Antoinetta Marie, Assassin, proud Breton." She shook my hand and I felt a little more at ease.
"I'm Teinaava. Prouder Argonian." Said the Argonian man, poking fun at Antoinetta.
"I'm only stating facts." She got defensive, but drank her mead and refused a bicker.
"I guess you're all wondering who I am." I chuckled nervously.
"In due time, of course. Don't tell what you aren't inclined to." Said Ocheeva. I looked at her with a little more respect and mouthed a 'thank you' before Gogron handed me a much more normal-sized tankard of nord mead.
"How'd you know I drink?" I joked.
"Eh, I know 'em when I smell 'em." He laughed. And this time, I did too.
After three tankards, a plate of delicious meat I realized to be Mutton, and a few murder jokes later; I felt much more at ease with the new crowd. Something about them had felt more welcoming than anything I'd felt since meeting Martin. I couldn't help but wonder what he would have thought of my new lifestyle. I pushed those thoughts away, telling him mentally, "It's only just begun, my old friend."
"And I said to her, hic, 'No, I am the messenger of death!" Gogron finished his story and I nearly spit out my mead. He looked at me. "What's gotten you in a twist, murderer?"
"Nothing- just you said Messenger of Death. I think that's funny, that was my name in the arena." I decided revealing a little personal information wouldn't hurt. He looked gob-smacked.
"You? The Grand Champion? Hail Sithis! It is an honor. I don't know how I didn't recognize you, what without your Battle Rainment on." His eyes were glowing with excitement and I felt embarrassed again. "I see it now! I love your style in the arena, just chop-chop head-on. No hiding or trickery to it, haha! I wish I could've seen you defeat the Grey Prince but I was on a contract. A defeat of the ages, sister! Cheers!" He raised his mug and we all toasted.
After a while, Antoinetta leaned closer to me and said, "Say, you look familiar. I never thought to ask you. What's your name?" I felt very anxious. I don't know if it was the mead or the question or both, but I felt sick to my stomach.
"I'm Belladonna Dumont. But you can call me Bella, if you'd like." I said, hoping they wouldn't recognize me further. They all went silent. Shit.
"You mean to tell us. . . You're the Belladonna Dumont? You're the Champion of Cyrodiil?" Ocheeva was stunned.
"The Hero of Kvatch?" Teinaava added, incredulous.
"Arch-Mage Belladonna Dumont?" Antoinetta seemed excited.
"A foul-smelling ape?" I glared at Mraj.
"And for a time, the Grey Fox." I heard that velvety voice behind me and everyone stopped.